Cold Night Ruminations
by kathryn-hs
Summary: In the wake of Pain in the Heart, Brennan finally stops running. Rated for slight language.


A.N. Like many others, I could use some closure regarding Pain In the Heart. This is my therapy. I wrote this in the middle of the night, so if there are any errors, I blame that!

Disclaimer: Get real. Not mine.

It was dark in the apartment. The TV cast a faint, shifting glow onto the couch and the FBI agent slumped there. Figures moved back and forth across the screen, yapping in low-volume about their petty problems. The good guys against the bad guys, nice and clear-cut in the way only a late night movie could. The man's dark eyes followed them blankly. He'd been watching for over an hour, but he couldn't remember the name or plot. Had he seen it before? He couldn't remember. He wished he couldn't remember anything at all.

Booth rubbed a hand over his face, rough stubble scratching his palm. An odd expression crossed his face, and his hand abruptly clenched into a fist. Dammit, Zack. He squeezed his eyes shut, but just behind the lids is a face. That genius, clueless, loyal grad student of Bones', the weirdo with the high IQ who had solved cases right alongside Booth. The guy who had saved Bones and Hodgins when that bastard had them underground. The one who turned out to be a nutjob's apprentice. What kind of a person goes from being the protégé of a woman like Temperance Brennan to helping a lunatic like Gormogon? Who would throw that away, even without considering the fact that his new boss ate human steaks for dinner?

He held his fist up in front of his face, staring at it. Zack's hands were burned off. His, instead of Hodgins'. Zack, the squint in the middle of a war zone. The thought of that kid in Iraq burned him, and he took a deep, unsteady breath. Why hadn't he seen it coming? Maybe if Booth had just…what? He didn't even really like the kid. But he was the soldier. He should have seen, should have stopped the whole thing before the team found out. Yeah. Sorry Bones, sorry team, Zack had to go away for a while. He's working in Africa. The remote part. He promises to write.

Dammit. The face changes to Bones, looking heartbroken and disbelieving. To Hodgins, looking like he's going to puke, and Angela, who appears to have stepped into a bad dream.

His thoughts swing back to Bones. Screw protocol, screw national security, he should have told her he wasn't dead. Where did Sweets get off, messing around with her head like that? No one could compartmentalize everything, and Bones wasn't as tough as she seemed.

No, scratch that. He knew very well that she was tough, tougher than anyone. She could get through anything; her family was proof of that. The point was that she shouldn't have to. His Bones should be protected, not hurt for sick little experiments.

He hated the guilt sitting at the bottom of his stomach, a thick weight that made him nauseous every time he breathed. The truth was, he had left her. With every intention of coming back, sure. Her parents probably had those same intentions, at first. But she didn't know that, and he had abandoned her when she needed him.

Booth drifted into a tense doze, fragments of uncomfortable dreams flickering around his mind and splintering like shards of bone.

A knock came at the door, and he jerked, hand going to the gun he wasn't wearing. Yawning, he walked to the door and looked through the peephole. His eyes widened, and unlocked the door, fingers clumsy with sleep and surprise.

She stood on the other side, chestnut hair loose and slightly messy around her pale face. The woman was dressed in nothing but soft grey pants and a clinging blue tank, car keys swinging forgotten from a fingertip. Although her pale skin is pebbled from the cold, he saw with bewilderment that the feet standing on his doormat are bare. He tried not to notice how the thin fabric of her top leaves no doubt that she really is quite cold. The light outside his door illuminated her beautiful face. She looks…lost, her blue eyes confused and painfully vulnerable. Like a child who can't quite find her way home. They locked on to his face the moment the door is opened, and there they stay, searching.

"Bones." He said finally. The last time she showed up unexpectedly at his place, she had been incandescent with anger. Now, she stared at his face like she hadn't seen him in years. "Hey. Is everything…ok?" Stupid question, after everything that had happened. She just kept staring at him, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. Was there something in his hair? He swiped a hand over his head. No. Wait-he did have pants on, didn't he?? Booth risked a glance downwards. Safe.

"Bit late for take-out, don't you think?" He offered her a self-conscious grin, feeling like an idiot. She shivered, and his instincts took over. "Look…Bones." He put a hand on her shoulder and tugged slightly, taking her keys with the other hand. "It's cold. Why don't you just come inside, you can have some, um, tea or something, and we can talk about…whatever you want to talk about? Alright?" He slipped the keys into his pocket.

Her eyes moved to his strong arm on her shoulder, and abruptly they cleared. She spoke.

"I had…a dream. It was just a dream." Her voice was soft and somehow relieved, with a strong undercurrent of sadness.

"Must have been some dream." He hated not saying anything helpful, but the agent felt like he was in one himself.

"Yes. Yes, it was. I dreamed…" Bones looked down at the ground, suddenly shy. "You were gone." The sudden loss in her voice made his stomach's weight triple, leaving him queasy and miserable. Then, she lifted her eyes to his again, and their expression made his heart stop. "You were gone again, Booth. And I couldn't feel, couldn't breathe… I was still there, but I was gone too." He swallowed heavily.

She drifted forward a few steps, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the solid warmth that was Booth, smiling at the steady beat of his heart. Slowly, she ran her fingers over his chest, ghosted them up his neck, and curled them around one side of his jaw. They fit perfectly, Booth thought hazily, focusing on her thumb as she stroked his stubbly cheek. He was frozen, unable to move a muscle, unable to take his eyes off the woman in front of him.

Bones moved one step closer, then with infinite slowness reached forward and kissed him. It wasn't a full kiss like the awkward one at Christmas. Her cool lips rested softly at one corner of his, only just overlapping. It was sweet, gentle, with just a hint of a question. When she finally leaned back, Booth still hadn't regained control of his body. He was still completely frozen, except for the beginnings of a smile around his lips.

"Booth…I'm glad you're still here."

Review? Come on...pretty please?


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